With his debut feature, Saba, Maksud Hossain crafts a tale of quiet devastation without straying into the realms of melodrama. Set against the backdrop of Dhaka, a city fraying at the edges, the film follows the 25-year-old titular protagonist as she endures the relentless demands of caring for her ailing mother while navigating a series of moral and financial dilemmas. Measured in tone and rich in implication, Saba is a patient, empathetic study of a young woman that delivers an emotional punch built equally on empathy, admiration and anguish.

Saba premiered at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. In this interview, Hossain reflects on the process of capturing the claustrophobic chaos of urban life and casting the country’s biggest television star in her first feature film role, and also shares his thoughts on the current state of independent cinema in Bangladesh.

Saba Interview: Related — An Interview with ‘Humans in the Loop’ Filmmaker Aranya Sahay

Dipankar Sarkar: How did your years of working on television commercials and short films shape your approach to storytelling in your debut feature? 

Maksud Hossain: I was born and raised in Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates. From a very early age — probably when I was eight or nine, or maybe even before that — my elder brother and I fell in love with movies. Some of my earliest memories are of watching Indian movies from the Mumbai film industry to Hollywood films in theatres in Abu Dhabi. They also ran retrospectives on directors like [Ingmar] Bergman, [Federico] Fellini, [Akira] Kurosawa and [Yasujirō] Ozu. I distinctly remember a month-long Satyajit Ray retrospective. That exposure deepened my love for cinema.

As a teenager, I began making short films. For my undergraduate studies, I went to Purdue University in the U.S., where I studied business, but I continued making films on the side. One of my short films, Three Beauties, a documentary I made in Bangladesh in 2006, won a Student Academy Award. That recognition encouraged me to apply for the MFA program in Film Production at New York University (NYU), and I got in. However, I had to drop out because it was too expensive, even with a scholarship. So, I moved to Los Angeles and took classes at UCLA on screenwriting, film production and directing. I also studied under Judith Weston, the legendary acting coach and author of Directing Actors.

Eventually, I moved back to Bangladesh in 2009–10, wanting to make feature films here. While working on that goal, I directed over 200 commercials and made more than 15 short films. Even though I was immersed in commercial work, I never stopped pursuing narrative storytelling.

When COVID hit, I realized it was time, and I had to make my first feature. In January 2021, I began writing the script for Saba, and finally, last year, we premiered the film at the Toronto International Film Festival.

Saba Interview: Related — An Interview with ‘Body’ Filmmaker Abhijit Mazumdar

DS: Throughout Saba, we watch the protagonist endure until that endurance begins to edge toward erasure. When you set out to tell this story, was the idea of quiet resilience central from the outset, or did it emerge organically through the evolution of her character?

MH: The inspiration was deeply personal. About 25 years ago, my wife and her mother were in a near-fatal car accident in Dhaka, leaving my mother-in-law paraplegic. After my father-in-law passed away from COVID in 2020, I saw my wife, Trilora Khan, struggle to care for her mother alone. That’s when the idea struck me: what if a young woman from a lower-middle-class background had to care for her paraplegic mother entirely on her own, without money, family or support? That question became the spark for Saba.

Once I finished the draft, I immediately knew this was the kind of film I had come to Bangladesh to make — the kind of story I had always wanted to tell. But I also knew it needed more work. It needed depth, truth and authenticity. That’s when I brought in Trilora to collaborate. She had lived this reality, and I wanted her experience to shape the film. We worked together closely, and the rewriting process went on for almost two years. We eventually shot the film in January 2023.

To your question about resilience, yes, it was there from the beginning. Even though I may not have consciously set out to write a story about quiet resilience, it was always there. It was something I had witnessed firsthand. Of course, I took creative liberties, and I brought my own life and perspective into the writing as well. But it was always rooted in something deeply personal.

Saba Interview: Related — Interview with ‘Narayaneente Moonnaanmakkal’ Filmmaker Sharan Venugopal

DS: Saba makes subtle use of absence — a father who left, a system that fails to support the vulnerable and a future that feels out of reach in a stifling city. How do these voids shape the psychological world of your characters?

MH: As I was writing Saba shortly after my father-in-law passed away, and looking back, it’s interesting how the film also has a missing father figure, and how that absence creates a void. That was a conscious decision on my part. I wanted to explore how two women would navigate such a situation in Bangladesh, given all the challenges of our society.

There’s also something I like about the mother’s character. She still believes the father is with her in some way, even though it’s made clear in the film that they haven’t heard from him in 10 years. That void and his absence shape their lives. It’s central to the story, and it also informs the anger Saba feels toward her father for abandoning them. That emotional wound is a big part of who she is. The lack of social infrastructure and the absence of support for families like this — it’s all there, and it shapes how the characters see themselves and their world. But I didn’t want the film to be about those things in an explicit way. I didn’t want to spell it out.

Saba Interview: Related — An Interview with ‘Poem of the Wind’ Filmmaker Ramakaushalyan Ramakrishnan

DS: The mother-daughter bond is both nurturing and suffocating. How did you approach the complexity of care as both a gesture of love and a burden of gendered expectation?

MH: So, I have a close relationship with my mother, and that connection has influenced my work. Almost all of my short films have female leads, and in most of them, the central woman has gone through some sort of childhood trauma that changes the course of her life. That’s true for Saba as well.

When I write female characters, I don’t begin by thinking of them in terms of gender. I just imagine myself in their position. And then, of course, I work closely with my co-writer Trilora, and in this case, the lead actor Mehazabien, to bring in that authentic female perspective. I’d often ask, “Would a woman do this? Would this feel real to her?” For instance, there’s a scene where the mother and daughter are fighting. When I first wrote it, I felt ashamed. Neither Trilora nor I would speak to our mothers that way. I almost deleted it. But I told myself, “Just let it be. I don’t have to show it to anyone yet.” Later, when I revisited it, the scene felt raw and honest. It was coming from a real place.

For the mother-daughter dynamic specifically, I returned to Trilora throughout the writing process for her insights. We also rehearsed for six months before shooting. During that time, I worked very closely with Mehazabien. She brought in a lot of her lived experience, which enriched the character tremendously. Rokeya Prachy, who played the mother, also contributed deeply to shaping that relationship on screen.

So, in the end, it was a mix of instinct, empathy and collaboration that helped me approach the care dynamic — not just as love, but also as a gendered burden — and try to portray it honestly.

Saba Interview: Related — An Interview with ‘Bokshi’ Filmmaker Bhargav Saikia

DS: There’s a pervasive sense in Saba that morality is a luxury few can afford, seen in Ankur’s bootlegging and Saba’s eventual compromise. Were you commenting specifically on life in Dhaka, or making a broader statement about survival under capitalism?

MH: When I’m writing or making a film, I try not to think in theoretical or ideological terms. Even if those thoughts come to mind, I consciously avoid saying them out loud because I feel that it can dilute the creative process. What I do try to say out loud — as a writer and director — is this: I aim to create characters who feel human, real and authentic to the world they inhabit, and to present them as honestly as I can while still engaging an audience.

My objective is that, whatever my characters — whether it’s Saba or Ankur — choose to do, even if the audience doesn’t agree with their actions, they can still empathize with them. They might think, “Okay, I wouldn’t have done that, but I can see why she did.” That kind of empathy is crucial to me. I try never to judge my characters. Whether I’m writing or directing, I’m always working to stay rooted in the character’s perspective.

I don’t like to speculate about how my characters might behave in another context — like, say, if they were living in Helsinki instead of Dhaka — because that’s not their reality. Their choices are shaped by the place they live in and the life they know. Likewise, I don’t consciously frame things in terms of capitalism or other “isms,” because the characters themselves wouldn’t necessarily think in those terms. So, for me, there’s no point in approaching them from that angle. I just want to portray them in their truest, most authentic form while, of course, creating an emotionally resonant experience for the audience — something that carries emotional truth. And by that, I mean my emotional truth. That’s what I strive for as a writer-director.

Saba Interview: Related — An Interview with ‘In the Name of Fire’ Filmmaker Abhilash Sharma

DS: Ankur’s dream of escaping to France contrasts with Saba’s resolve to stay and complete her education in Dhaka. Did you see them as emotional counterpoints or two different responses to the same systemic stagnation?

MH: Yes, I did. I remember thinking early on that this was, in a way, a kind of counterbalance — because these are perspectives we encounter almost daily in Dhaka. Some people are determined to stay in the city, no matter what. And then others are constantly looking for ways to leave, to immigrate — like in most developing nations, people are searching for greener pastures, whatever that might mean.

So, yes, I felt that contrast emerged in a very organic and authentic way. And once I saw it in the screenplay, I enjoyed playing with it as much as I could, without making it too on the nose.

Saba Interview: Related — An Interview with ‘Sabar Bonda’ Filmmaker Rohan Kanawade

DS: One of Saba’s most tender sequences is the outing with Saba, Shirin and Ankur in the park. It is a moment of reprieve that feels unusually relaxing. Why was it necessary to include this moment of emotional relief in the film?

MH: Yes, that was something I consciously designed with my team. At one point while writing the script, it started to feel like a story of two opposing ideas. Saba represents the idea of survival at any cost, just staying alive, no matter what. Whereas the mother, Shirin, embodies a different philosophy. For her, that life should have some quality to it, that we should be able to enjoy the finer things.

For a large part of the film — up until the moment they visit Zinda Park — we’re mostly confined to the apartment. Then there’s this release when they finally go to the park. The frame opens up — you see the trees, the greenery, the water, the flickering sunlight — and there’s some soothing music. It’s like a breather. Visually, it represents the world Shirin longs for — the beauty she talks about. It was important for me to show that perspective, to give the audience that sensory contrast.

Saba carries this mindset where survival alone absolves her of any guilt. She’s strict with her mother, very bound by duty. But then Ankur enters the picture. With his independence and charm, he influences her. She starts to feel that maybe there’s another way, that his approach could help her mother too. And of course, when they go out and her mother is genuinely happy, it feels good. It’s a rare moment of joy.  It becomes part of a larger emotional journey — a kind of cycle of life. And yes, that shift, that contrast, was something very important for me to show.

Saba Interview: Related — An Interview with ‘In Retreat’ Filmmaker Maisam Ali

DS: What were some of the challenges you faced in helping the three principal actors — Mehazabien Chowdhury, Rokeya Prachy and Mostafa Monwar — bring such nuanced performances to life, particularly given the complex emotional layers of their roles?

MH: Around eight or nine months before the shoot, I started getting nervous. I had written a very character-driven script, and I knew that if the performances weren’t nuanced, the entire film could fall flat. I began casting with Saba, since she’s the lead and the story unfolds entirely from her perspective. I auditioned around 12 to 15 actresses from theatre, indie films, television and mainstream cinema in Bangladesh. Many were talented, but none felt like Saba.

As I was struggling, Trilora suggested I meet Mehazabien. I knew her from my commercial days. She’s the biggest celebrity in Bangladesh with over 10 million followers, and has been acting on TV for over a decade. Saba would be her first feature film. I wasn’t sure if she’d be interested in a small indie project, but when I shared the story’s inspiration and sent her the script, she loved it and agreed immediately. 

For Ankur, Mostafa Monwar was always my first choice. He’s a leading figure in Bangladesh’s indie cinema, and I’ve long admired his raw, authentic performances. Though initially hesitant, he eventually came on board.

Casting the role of the mother, Shirin, was a bigger challenge. I met several actresses of that age group, but there aren’t many working women in that range in Bangladesh. Some had left acting, and others had a very loud, theatrical, old-school style of performance, which didn’t suit the tone I was going for. Then I met Rokeya Prachy. During our first meeting, she began sharing her personal story, particularly her relationship with her two daughters. The moment she spoke about them and how she connected with the mother-daughter dynamic in Saba, I just knew she was my Shirin.

Acting styles in Bangladesh often lean toward the theatrical, so I had to communicate the kind of naturalistic performance I was aiming for. So, we rehearsed for six months and did a lot of improvisation during that period. I had studied with Judith Weston, and that training helped me guide my actors in the direction I envisioned. Of course, they’re all brilliant performers. They know how to act. What we needed was to develop trust, get comfortable with one another and build a shared understanding of the characters and the story. Once we had that, it was just about giving them a gentle nudge in the right direction.

Saba Interview: Related — An Interview with ‘Feminist Fathima’ Filmmaker Fasil Muhammed

DS: The world of Saba comprises claustrophobic rooms, chaotic streets and a hazy hookah lounge, all of which feel like they’re pressing in on the characters. Why was creating that sense of pressure important to your visual and sonic design?

MH: It was very important to me from the writing phase through to the design and post-production. I wanted the audience to experience exactly what Saba was going through. She’s in this pressure-cooker situation — claustrophobic, chaotic and raw. Dhaka itself is chaotic and in-your-face, with little space to breathe, much like the apartment Saba lives in. The camera was often just inches away from her as she moved through the space, capturing that intensity.

I wanted to use a raw, almost cinéma vérité style to convey her inner feelings authentically. This approach was reflected not only in the camera work but also in the sound design and editing. We shot the entire film handheld to create a sense of immediacy and intimacy.

Since the entire film is from Saba’s perspective, I made the decision early on to shoot it with a single 50mm lens to maintain a unified vision and give the audience a consistent emotional experience. In scenes where Saba is with her mother, we intentionally crossed the 180-degree line, which is traditionally jarring in editing. I did this to visually emphasize the opposing forces between them, even though their love is deep. I wanted to ensure the audience could feel the chaos and claustrophobic environment that Saba was trapped in. It was all a very intentional choice.

Saba Interview: Related — An Interview with ‘IC 814: The Kandahar Hijack’ Co-Writer Trishant Srivastava

DS: What is the current landscape of independent filmmaking in Dhaka? And within that context, who do you envision as the audience for a film like Saba? 

MH: I believe that the current landscape for indie films in Bangladesh is better than it has been at most times in its history. In the late 90s and early 2000s, filmmakers like Tareque Masud, Morshedul Islam and Tanvir Mokammel were making independent films in Bangladesh that gained international recognition. However, that trend faded, and it wasn’t until about six or seven years ago that Bangladeshi films started making waves again.

Many filmmakers are not getting the opportunities they deserve, and indie filmmaking, in particular, has an entrepreneurial aspect to it. Every film you make feels like starting a new startup. While filmmaking skills are essential, entrepreneurial skills are not something that comes naturally to many Bangladeshi filmmakers, at least not from what I’ve observed. Despite these challenges, I feel there’s a second wave of indie filmmaking in Bangladesh, and a lot of Bangladeshi indie films are now traveling the world.

Saba premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival and had an incredible festival run, including competitions at Busan, Red Sea and Bengaluru, India, as well as winning at [the] Göteborg Film Festival. We’re also headed to Raindance and the Sydney Film Festival. The film is experiencing a historic run for Bangladeshi indie cinema, and we have more festivals lined up. I’m hopeful that this will help take Bangladeshi independent film to the next level in the years to come.

As for the audience, a lot of films from my peers at various festivals aren’t very accessible to them, but I believe Saba is. It has an emotional journey that’s easy to follow and layered with political and social commentary, poetic and social realism. But on a surface level, it captures the universal emotional struggle of letting go of a loved one for their good, which resonates both universally and specifically with Bangladeshi audiences. We are prepping for the theatrical release of Saba in Bangladesh this July. I’m hopeful that the audiences will come to the theatres and give the film a chance. I don’t see why Bangladeshi audiences won’t love it too.

Dipankar Sarkar (@Dipankar_Tezpur) is a graduate in film editing from the Film and Television Institute of India and currently based in Mumbai. As a freelancer, he frequently contributes to various Indian publications on cinema-related topics.

Saba Interview: Related — An Interview with ‘Appuram’ Filmmaker Indu Lakshmi